


I’m Sorry, I’m Just Not Strong Enough

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [55]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Stiles Stilinski Dies, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:33:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only the dead could answer the questions of Why? Then maybe we’d feel a little better inside. Or maybe the answer would make our hearts ache with unimaginable sorrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m Sorry, I’m Just Not Strong Enough

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked for another suicide Stiles thing (seriously I’m getting a bit tired of these things now) with something where he’s found by Derek but not focusing on it too much. Which I had to ask what the hell they really wanted and they asked me to just write something where Stiles who’s been thinking about death awhile just decides it’s time, and so he does it. I used a little bit of what I had imagined I would have done when I had same thoughts, unfortunately/or fortunately I’ve got too many people who depend on me so Death unless by natural causes or accidental (anything that I can’t prevent really) isn’t an option; so yeah that’s where the cleaning thing comes in. And sorry stalia lovers in this fic there’s no such thing as Stalia and there never was, so don’t ask me where Malia is in all of this because she’s not here, sorry.

 

Stiles stood unmoving, only his mind and heart were racing, staring at Derek with disbelief.He’d hung his last strings of strength on the former Alpha, who’d turned human; everyone else had already let him down. Stiles could hear those already thin cords snap one by one, and he almost told Derek how completely done he was with all the bad choices Derek continued to make and he almost told the brooding man how done he was with _everything_ ; almosttold Derek how he’d broken not only the threads keeping him from dropping into the pit from where he would never rise from, Stile almost confessed to Derek how exhausted he was of being the one everyone leaned on while never being there for him to take comfort or support in, and Stiles almost did the cruelest things ever by nearly confessing how he still loved Derek but Stiles was just simply too tired to voice his heart to the werewolf glaring at him. And so instead of spilling the words that wanted to bubble up into the surface Stiles just sighed and said, `I hope the next woman you find won’t try and kill you.´ and he smiles a fragile smile and laughs softly ignoring how anger flares in Derek’s eyes, but Stiles is too wary of the world and all its disappointments to care if he leaves Derek angry considering how anger is better than sorrow in his own opinion. 

 

`Get out! ´ Derek yells furious perhaps more with himself than Stiles, `LEAVE.´ Stiles closes the first-aid kit, the one that needs restocking soon since Stiles had been forced to patch up Derek’s torso rather excessively as Braeden had tried to steal the life that wasn’t hers to take, now she was dead and burning in the furnace that was in the basement of the building. Stiles had killed her. He’d saved Derek, got rid of her body and patched Derek up and now he would leave Derek alone for good because that’s what has been asked off of him for the past week by everyone he knows. 

 

`Okay.´ Stiles said voice calm, free of any real emotions, and he didn’t turn around to look at Derek not until he was already about to close the door and take his leave of Derek Hale, Stiles looked at the angry figure and just said, `Goodbye Sourwolf.´ and then he closed the door and just walked away. He made his way slowly to his Jeep, he felt strangely calm and in no real hurry because everything would be fine in the end. When he unlocks his baby he glances up and finds Derek glaring down at him, Stiles smiles up at him hoping the pull of facial muscles to express what he can’t bring himself to say, he wants Derek to know it’s all good that everything will be fine but he isn’t sure Derek gets it or cares; the figure in the window moves away and Stiles slips into his Jeep and takes it for the last drive around Beacon Hills, one last look around.

 

He takes a detour to the Sheriff Station before heading home he just wants to see his dad. Stiles walks into the familiar building, he walks past Parrish who’s talking to someone on the phone eyes alight with a happiness Stiles hasn’t felt since he’d been little and his mother had been well, he’s not jealous because good people should be happy.

 

His father is arguing with someone on the phone in his office and Stiles wishes his dad wasn’t preoccupied at that moment, but it also seems befitting because his father has always been more involved with protecting Beacon Hills than he’s been with Stiles; the Nogitsune had been a chance for a new beginning, once gone Stiles had held high-hopes only to find them float away with each night Stiles crawled into his bed in an empty house only to wake-up and find the house still devoid of his father. 

 

He leaves the station waving a goodbye to Parrish who doesn’t even notice him leave. And for a minute Stiles wonders if anyone will notice that he’s gone, he wonders who will miss him really except for his father and Scott. 

 

Stiles drives straight home, he spends and half-an-hour cleaning the Jeep, leaving the necessary documents on the dashboard. He cleans the house, his room has never been as tidy as it is by the time he’s packed all his clothes in cardboard boxes marked CHARITY and SCOTT’S and TO DO AS YOU WILL, he packs his books, ties them together with red and blue strings and leaves a note on each mountain of bound words and each note is either RETURN TO LIBRARY or DEATONS or HALES or DONATE, he gather’s up everything he owns and labels all until everything but his bed is untouched; the walls are bare and clean you wouldn’t know there had ever been a Stiles Stilinski inhabiting the room once Stiles was gone. His locker has been almost empty for a month now fully prepared for his father or a teacher having to clear the locker, there is nothing shocking or disturbing to find in there, just a few school books and maybe a package of Reese’s’. 

 

Stiles sat down on his bed, the bottle of Jack his father had tried to hide in hand and the cocktail of prescription drugs some of which are his fathers but most are of his own, and a few of his mother’s that he’d hid away when he had to collect as much of his mother’s things when his father had in a drunken haze decided to get rid of everything of hers. He swallows the pills with a calmness that surprises him, he washes them down with whiskey even though he doesn’t like the taste of it, by the time the bottles are empty he crawls under the covers because he feels so cold and tiered suddenly. 

 

He listens to his own heartbeat until he slips away unaware if it’s into a dream or into the arms of Death, but away he goes and he mumbles words to slurred for even the heightened senses of a werewolf to decipher as, `Finally.´

 

The weekend passes with the Sheriff dropping in on Sunday morning only to change and to shout up to his son, `Don’t sleep all day kid.´ but at the same time the man is grateful his son is able to sleep. There are no calls from any of those Stiles had called his friends, not until Monday morning rolls in and he’s not at school causes one Scott ´McCall to call Derek asking him to get Stiles to school before he gets into trouble because Coach is on the warpath. With an annoyed huff Derek grabs the keys to his car, his cut and stitched flesh aching still.

 

He frowns slightly when he calls the teenager only for his efforts to go straight down the drain because he’s being asked to leave a message after the beep. 

 

Derek rings the door bell, bangs at the door of the Stilinski house for a few minutes until he decides to use the spare-key hidden underneath a pile of wood in the back of garden, he’s experienced Stiles asleep more times than he’d care to know; the kid can sleep as lightly as a guard dog or so heavily you could do anything to him without the boy waking-up. 

 

`STILES!´ Derek yells while slamming the door close behind him, and he’s halfway up the stairs when he hears Stiles phone ring, he follows the sound of calls coming one after another like the impatient beats Derek had created with his fist and the palm of his hand against the front door of the Stilinski house. Suddenly he’s overcome with a feeling of dread while his hand goes to rest on the handle of the bedroom door; everything is too quiet he knows he should hear something. 

 

Derek’s voice is small and cautious as he calls out to the boy that had a name that was a bigger secret than the ins and outs of the White House.When there’s no response he turns the handle and pushes the door ajar and with a trembling voice calls out for the boy that had held him when he’d been close to drowning. 

 

Stiles is on his bed, wrapped all tight and snug in covers and extra blankets, and Derek sighs with relief thinking the boy is just a sleep. 

 

`Wake-up you loser.´ Derek laughs and pulls at the covers, causing Stiles to roll onto his back, and Derek cries out in horror and grief at the sight of the empty shell that was left of a person who’d seemed so vibrant and strong, and as he stares down at the still figure a howl like none he’d ever produced left him at the same time as he reached out to shake the long dead boy; the howl was heard by several packs up north. 

 

`Why? ´ was the question everyone who knew Stiles Stilinski would ask once the news spread. 

 

Sheriff cried and screamed, `Why? ´ Over and over again as he cradled and clutched to his lifeless child, he cried the question into his whiskey day and night.

 

`Why?´ Scott would sob while comforted by his mother, who’d asked the same question while she’d gone down to the morgue to take one last look at the boy she’d never thought would leave this world before she did. There would always be an empty space within the True Alpha, and no one and nothing could replace Stiles Stilinski. And those who had known Scott before the untimely death of his best friend and brother would say something dimed inside of Scott, gone were the sunshine and rainbow nature and something more sever arose. 

 

`Why?´ Lydia would ask while she sobbed against the shoulder of Danny Mahaelani who would cry into a drink in the Jungle days later, thinking about the boy he’d never truly understood or dared to give his affections too even though Danny had liked the curious teenager. Lydia sobbed openly at the funeral of Stiles Stilinski and asked the boy in the coffin, `Why Stiles why? ´ But he would never answer her no matter how hard she begged him and pleaded him.

 

`Why? ´ Coach Finstock would ask as the Headmaster announced the terrible news about Bilinski, he offered to empty the kids locker finding it stranger there was really nothing there to empty, he would never have believed that the kid would have such a clean locker it just didn’t seem right considering that Bilinski had been a lot like Bobby Finstock had been at that age. 

 

`Why?´ Parrish asked as he stared at the body held tightly by the man he admired so greatly, he couldn’t say he’d known the Sheriff’s kid and he regretted not trying to get to know the boy a little bit better considering Stiles always seemed to be in the background of everything. 

 

`Why?Peter would ask as he stood outside the Stilinski watching as the body that had been anything like the fragile humans Peter had encountered before was carted away, Stiles had been his favorite and he might have even confessed later in life that he’d held a great deal of respect for the boy. He would wrack his brain trying to find a time when he might have seen the signs of what was to come, as well as trying to just bring back the life lost but unlike Peter Stiles had chosen Death and there was no coming back from that. 

 

`Why?´ asked Isaac Lahey who sank to the ground in a narrow backstreet in some small town in France, the message was short and so unlike Melissa McCall that he had to call her just to be sure it truly was from the woman who’d welcomed him into her home, and when he heard her repeat the words she’d sent him he went completely still and quiet the question why Stiles had taken his life; Isaac had never thought Stiles would do such a thing as leave Scott, it had seemed like there had always just been Scott and Stiles and the idea of just Scott seemed unwanted. 

 

`Why?´ Jackson Whittemore asked as he stood by the casket of the kid he’d bullied severely simply because Stiles was just _Stiles_ , smart without effort and funny without thinking and kind beyond reason; Stiles was the kid who lost his mother and didn’t stop smiling or laughing. Stiles was the sort of friend Jackson would have liked to have, with Danny and Stiles as his friends then maybe Jackson could have been a better person, but Jackson had beenmean to Scott thinking he was being funny but of course goodhearted Stiles hadn’t seen the funny side of pushing around a weaker kid. Jackson had to wonder why he himself had never tried harder to be friends with Stiles; Scott shouldn’t really have been an issue, right?

 

`Why? ´ Cora Hale screamed into thenight sky rage in her heart, she may never have shown how much she appreciated the way Stiles had been there for her brother, and she had to wonder how Stiles could just leave her brother and Scott considering he was the brains of the pack; he was the most capable to keep everyone alive. It was just sad that Stiles hadn’t been able to keep himself alive.

 

`Why? ´ Derek Hale would ask for days and days after finding Stiles, he would ask the same question each time he stood before the headstone of the boy who’d left without a warning,Derek had always thought Stiles would be there; hell he’d even thought they’d end up like two grumpy old men, who found enjoyment in the company of one another.Now it seemed Derek would grow old and miserable alone, unless of course someone finally managed to kill him now that Stiles’ wasn’t around to stop it. 

 

~*~

 

Claudia Stilinski watched as her little boy, her baby boy, swallowed one poisonous pill after another begging him to stop and trying to reach for the bottles of drugs and alcohol but her hands were useless as were her words for like Death had told her she could do nothing to stop it. She could only watch and wait. 

 

Her grief grew as she watched her beautiful boy who had always needed more than one blanket to feel warm and safe in his bed slipped into bed, her little boy had swapped his teddy bear Blob for a pillow long ago, but like Blob the pillow was always needed to ensure a peaceful slumber for her little one. She watched with sadness as her son cocooned himself in blankets, one which was old and ratty, she recognized it as the one she’d made with her grandmother at the age of fourteen listening to her tell stories about the old country. 

 

Claudia could feel the life she had created, the one she had loved so dearly from the second she’d suspected she might be pregnant, slip. Her son, her brave little boy had gone through so much, done his hardest to deal with everything on his own because he feared burdening anyone else with his sorrows and fears; and she wanted to curse her husband for his blindness, she wanted to hit her son best friend for not being there for her son, and she wanted to ask the wolf that had stolen her son’s heart and shattered it if he was pleased with himself. 

 

But she could do none. She could only sit down on the bed, and watch her greatest creation depart. 

 

`Why? Why my little light?´ Claudia asked while tears that would never soak the fabrics of her gown or the sheets of her sons bed danced their way down her pale skin, she heard the heart give its last thump. She felt the moment her son left the mortal shell he’d inhabited for only the pitiful amount of seventeen years, it was like a snap and a tug inside her.

 

`Why?´ a familiar and timid voice asked, small and young like it had been years before she’d become too ill to care for him the way a mother should. Claudia turned her gaze away from the body her baby had left behind and found herself looking back at her son at the age of five, walnut-brown hair thick and messy on his head, and she felt herself rise to her feet even before deciding to do so.

 

` I just wasn’t strong enough.´ her baby answered sounding small and ashamed, beautiful honey-brown eyes tearful and apologetic, `I’m sorry mama.´

 

Claudia scooped-up her son like she had once been able to do and she held him tightly because she had missed him dreadfully. 

 

`It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.´ she told her son, kissing away his tears of shame, `I’m not mad. I don’t blame you.´ and Claudia didn’t blame her son, and she wasn’t mad at him, if anything she blamed those around him, she blamed the people she had trusted to take care of her little boy when she could not.

 

`I’ve missed you mama.´ Stiles said burying his little face in her neck, the familiarity of it made her smile.

 

`I’ve missed you too baby.´ she said as she walked towards the light that beckoned for her return and for her baby boy to join, she wouldn’t return to this world of the living again until she and her little one had to fetch her husband and hopefully by then she had forgiven him for the neglect he’d shown their son. 

 


End file.
